Rented Seat.

I remember a man who used to work with my dad many years ago. I’m not sure if he actually worked with my dad or just used to hang out near his workplace. Anyway, I recall that he was at least about the same age as my mzee. It’s just that when we are young, everyone around our parents’ age seems very old. My son reminded me of that some time back during an argument. To drive his point home and ultimately win the fight, he chastised me for arguing with him, yet I was half a century old. I froze for a moment after that statement, and then burst out in laughter. His anger immediately melted, and he laughed too. So yes, we are now those old people according to our children.

Anyway, back to the story about my dad and the other mzee. Dad worked at the Housing Finance Company of Kenya (HFCK), now rebranded as HF. He was at the head office for a while, in Rehani House on Koinange Street. Often, we would leave school and go wait for him to get off work. There was a building opposite Rehani House that had a restaurant on the ground floor—Mandy’s Restaurant. I wonder if it still exists. I remember having meals there several times on Dad’s account. He was a regular customer, so they knew him.

I would see this mzee in a suit, seated in a corner in Mandy’s, reading a newspaper. The fact that I remember this many years later means I saw him a couple of times when I visited Mandy’s. One day I asked my dad who his old age mate was (well, not in these exact words. We were not courageous Gen Zs back then hehe). My mzee remarked that the other smartly dressed man had retired. At that time, my idea of retirement was going to shags and pretending to farm and milk cows. That’s because I had an uncle who was a retired banker and seemed fulfilled upcountry. Nairobi was not for retirees. That was my perception. So, I was perplexed by this mzee in a suit and tie, in the CBD reading a gazeti for most of the day as if he was studying for an exam.

Now many years later, I can put the puzzle together. This mzee was in denial after his job katikad. I suspect the news of his job loss hadn’t arrived home yet, and he left home early every morning for work, as was the case for many years when he was employed. Maybe the closest place to his office was Mandy’s Restaurant, where he would meet some of his peers who were still working (or not) and discuss projects that were in the air, all in the name of keeping up an image. I wonder if he ever thought that day would come, when his job would be gone and he would be sent home. Clearly not.

Many of our fathers suffered the same fate back then. Their jobs defined them and became their sole identity. Never did they imagine a day when they would live without that job or career. Somehow, our mothers were more versatile. They reinvented themselves much better than our fathers did. I wonder how long that mzee put up that image before his cover was blown and he had to deal with his new reality.

I’d imagine we now know better in our generation. One would expect that we are planning for life after work while still working. For the years I have been studying midlife transitions and coaching folks through halftime, I’m slowly seeing history repeating itself. I interact with many brilliant and driven men and women who are dialled into their jobs, pushing the needle hard to climb the proverbial ladder of success. Whether that ladder is leaning on the wrong wall is a story for another day.

I was listening to a webinar from the Modern Elder Academy featuring Michael Clinton. He was sharing how we can roar into midlife and make the next 30 years of our lives the best yet. A comment he made struck me: when he was in his late 30s, someone told him that the seat he occupied was rented, and that one day he would have to vacate it for someone else.

If that’s the case, why do so many of us work as if we own the seat and office we occupy? While it’s important to be present and give it our best shot, we often get carried away and view ourselves as indispensable. We fall under the impression that the owners of the seat (our superiors) see our commitment and value so much that they cannot send us packing. Until the day comes (often onshort notice), when we are informed that time’s up and it’s time to vacate. I can only imagine the sense of betrayal one feels in that moment.

Folks, how can we commit to the roles we have currently and do a great job while remaining aware that our lease for that seat will one day end? Remember, someone had to vacate for you to occupy that seat. So, in the same way, you will have to vacate for someone else to occupy it.

I believe one way to soften the blow of being evicted is to start preparing for the next seat that you will occupy when you leave. That way, when the landlord shows up, you won’t be as surprised, as you will already have bought boxes to start packing pole pole. Maybe you might be so ready that you are the one who gives notice. How cool would that be? I’m working with a few clients who left on their terms, and believe me, it’s much easier crafting the next season of their lives because they are ready for it and not bogged down with bitterness, regret and unpreparedness. We may not have control over when we will vacate the seat, but we can influence, to a degree, how we will exit.

In his book ROAR, Michael Clinton shares the 3 Ps that can help us not just vacate the rented seat well but even be glad that we did. It’s a framework to help us structure the next season of our lives. I think you’ll find this helpful, folks.

Here’s an excerpt from the book.

 Michael Clinton introduces the 3 Ps framework to help structure your next chapter:

• Purpose: Identifying what truly drives you at this stage of life. It’s about moving beyond old titles or expectations to figure out what gives your days direction, meaning, and excitement.

• Passion: Tapping into interests, creative outlets, or long-postponed projects that energise you. This means revisiting activities or topics you genuinely care about, rather than simply doing what is required.

• Possibility: Opening your mind to new opportunities and reframing what is feasible after 50. It centres on breaking out of rigid patterns to view midlife as an expansive runway for growth, learning, and new experiences.

Are you occupying a rented seat, folks? Remember, one day your tenancy will end. Will you be ready to leave? How can you prepare for that day before it arrives?